d a curtsy. She remembered, too, that she was to curtsy to everyone in the house except Edith, who was the help, and Lara, who was feebleminded, and Edith's husband, who was a hopeless drunk and stupid besides.
Everyone else, declared the queen, was Selena's so-
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cial superior and, as such, required a curtsy. Especially the king.
Selena had curtsied so much, she felt dizzy every time someone new walked into the room. But she'd done it, followed the odd custom and mastered a new skill. She could also pour and sip the tasteless, tongue-scalding liquid called T, and do it with her pinky finger pointing to the ceiling. And the queen pronounced Selena's royal wave second to none.
Selena turned away from the mirror at last and reached for the bronze gown, which lay heaped over the back of her chair. She winced at the thought of putting it on again and involuntarily drew her hand back.
Everything they'd taught her about being a lady was either uncomfortable or senseless. She wanted to refuse, wanted to wear pants like Andrew's and a big silk shut that hung loose to her knees. She wanted big, bold colors, too, colors that reminded her of words like sky, sea, dandelion, iris, grass. Somehow, the colors brought back more images and memories than anything else. A white nightdress made her think of snow and frost and starlight, of a steaming stream of milk from a cow's pink teat, of a daisy's velvet petals. Sometimes she had the words to match the images, sometimes she simply received a mental picture and the word would inexplicably pop into her head an hour later. It didn't matter; all that mattered were the so-called memories, the bits and pieces that hinted at a beautiful world out there, a universe of sight and sound and vibrant color. A mysterious world that beckoned her with seductive possibilities.
And today she would see it for the first time. She picked up the dress, which reminded her suddenly that green leaves turn brown in the autumn, and slipped it over her head. Smoothing the folds of ecru lace at the throat, she buttoned the tight bodice and skirt and went to the bed to wait.
Freedom was moments away.
Ml
* * *
The knock came. Selena lurched out of bed and heard the wrenching hiss of torn fabric. Wincing, she glanced down, and saw that her bodice had ripped open, revealing a wide swath of her white chemise. Her breasts swelled over the lacy neckline.
The knock sounded again. "Selena?" Andrew said through the closed door. "Are you decent?"
Selena frowned. Decent. She must have misunderstood the word-she thought it meant moral, and moral meant nice. Why would Andrew ask if she was nice? "Yes."
"Good." The door opened wide and Andrew walked through. He grinned down at her. Then suddenly he froze. His gaze widened, fixed on her chemise. "Y-Your gown."
"Tight."
Color crept up his neck and fanned across his face. "Y-Yes, but ..." He glanced back at the door, as if he was going to run away.
She pitched forward. "No go." She grabbed his arm and anchored herself to him. "We go ... outside. Learn. See."
Andrew licked his lips and looked everywhere except at her breasts. Before he could answer, Edith and Maeve walked into the room.
Edith took one look at Selena's gown and rolled her eyes. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I never had so much trouble keepin' a lunatic dressed."
Maeve gave Selena a slow, sleepy smile.
Selena felt a tightening in her chest. She didn't realize until that moment how much she'd missed Maeve, how afraid Selena had been that her friend had somehow vanished. "Maeve. Missed you."
Still smiling, Maeve turned slightly and started hitting her forehead against the wall.
"Stop that," Edith growled. "You're giving me a headache."
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Selena rushed to Maeve's side and touched her shoulder. "Maeve," she whispered.
Maeve kept striking her head.
Every thump-thump-thump of Maeve's head against the wall hit her like a blow. She turned to Edith. "Why?"
"Don't bother askin', lassie," Edith said quietly. "She's mad as a loon some days. Ye never know when."
"Mad?" Selena repeated the word, then frowned. She grabbed Maeve by the shoulders and drew her away from the wall. Maeve turned, looked up at Selena through dull, watery eyes. A puffy discoloration marked her forehead already.